


The curse of life

by AzureRegulus



Series: Beginning of the new Apocrypha [1]
Category: Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:21:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26197066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzureRegulus/pseuds/AzureRegulus
Summary: How would you react?You have seen your family being slaughtered…You felt the arms of your parents around you as they protect you with their bodies, slowly growing colder and colder as you hear their bodies being stabbed by swords over and over…And when the sounds of battles stop…When the last sword clutters on the ground and the final drops of blood are shed and you crawl out of the protective embrace of your parents, a smile on their pale faces……would you also scream when you witness the aftermath of the carnage?This is the story of who would come to be the one titled a god of chaos and a man who'd later open up the huntress of Arcadia as she would pull him into the light.
Series: Beginning of the new Apocrypha [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1902436





	The curse of life

How would you react?

You have seen your family being slaughtered…

You felt the arms of your parents around you as they protect you with their bodies, slowly growing colder and colder as you hear their bodies being stabbed by swords over and over…

And when the sounds of battles stop…

When the last sword clutters on the ground and the final drops of blood are shed and you crawl out of the protective embrace of your parents, a smile on their pale faces…

…would you also scream when you witness the aftermath of the carnage?

Alone I had wandered my island, what was now a tomb of the dead. It was a depiction crueler than even Hades could display in the underworld.

The former greek warriors that wandered the entire lands of the gods, fighting for the children abused and tormented by war and loss, that had no home, no loved ones.

It was a lifelong mission. When old heroes fought for glory and Elysium, these warriors put their lives on the line to offer children a happy life on this island secluded by fog. A place to be loved, to have arms wrapped around you as you cried your heart out.

And that…

…was their reward…

Being slaughtered like cattle.

Men, women, children, elderly.

Beheaded, their guts dragged out for Ravens to feast upon. One was always watching me somehow.

Somehow the fog’s protection did not nothing to save us from the attack…

To this day I do not know who instilled the attack on Polediatirisi…

I only remember one thing from my island.

I had nothing left anymore.

As I wandered with my bare feet over the blood covered concrete, I searched for what was once my home, found destroyed and devoid of life. The only thing that was left intact from the crazed slaughter, was a small boat.

My only hope.

There was nothing to take for food…

There was nothing left to drink…

The apples were tainted with blood, my favorite fruit, rotten.

I walked and walked on in hope until my feet hurt, coming only upon a destroyed library. I have nothing left here on this small island, but my own life.

But…maybe I can take ‘that’ with me…

Amidst the rubble, I searched and searched.

And I found what little remained of it.

A scroll nearly burned to ashes aside from one name.

Atalanta…

The beautiful huntress of Arcadia, too fast for males to catch.

I was too shy to admit that I looked up to her, to this huntress that lived so long ago.

The children of this island, now mere corpses, always had a hero they looked up to.

Strong as Heracles.

Courageous as Achilles.

Smart as Odysseus.

Wise as Asclepius.

Many, many heroes they wished to be. But I was different.

For some reason, I always liked Atalanta. She seemed unapproachable, yet something drew me to read this story over and over. I didn’t find joy in reading the different endings of her tale, none ever ending with her happiness.

It hurt.

My small heart hurt every time when I read at night how she ran across the fields, killed the centaurs, drew first blood against the Caledonian boar, only to find such unfortunate ends.

When my father asked me once who I looked up to, he chuckled.

_“Agori mou, if you chase your dreams of becoming a scholar, live your life as you desire it, maybe you will one day find her on the fields of Elysium. And when you are kind, respectful and offer her an apple, maybe she’ll let you race her and slow down for you!”._

_“Pater!”._

_“Hahaha! Ah, so it is love as well!”._

He laughed at how I blushed.

I didn’t even understand the feelings in my chest that time. After all, I was but a boy. But now, he only had a loving smile on his pale face, laying over my mother as he protected me and her.

Both were gone…

A gust of wind tore the last remnants of the book into the wind.

Now, not even that story remained.

…

I was all alone…

Untying the boat, my voyage over the raging sea began.

I did not care if I became food for Poseidon’s children and their saw-like teeth, the god Caenis hated from the bottom of her heart. If I ended up as shark food, at least I could be with mother and father again.

I wasn’t eaten…

But the endless days on sea killed me…

First my soul, then my body as I starved, only able to drink the sea water...

When I thought I was dead, I felt a hand brush over my head. There was a soft whisper…

…a drop falling on my temple before the hand disappeared.

My eyes couldn’t open when I heard footsteps approach. Neither could my body move.

But I was alive…

_“That is the child he gave his heart to?”._

_“It is nothing but a child of Polediatirisi. But what is that boy doing here on Arcadia’s beach?”._

_“It doesn’t matter. If ‘he’ gave his heart to the boy, that means he is our new ‘weapon’”._

_“Him? You want to make that child a half god? Chaos? You cannot make a child into an Assassin for the gods, fool.”._

_“Hmpf. You misunderstand one thing. It is because he is a child that he can be the perfect weapon. At this age, it is perfect. Close of his heart and turn him into a blade of divine judgement. Our Servant. Rogue gods, mortals. We give the command and he’ll kill without a second thought. He is the perfect candidate.”._

_“Leave him alone!”._

I still remember to this day how the voice of a woman tore through the two males’ annoyed banter. Pressed against a chest in warm arms, a warmth I forgot already, I heard the faint beating of a heart.

_“Your last mission killed ‘him’ already and he chose to give the last spark of his life to this child! I won’t allow you to turn him into a weapon!”._

She was protecting me.

_“Artemis, you have no say in this. Neither you Greek or Egyptian gods have a say in the matter. Hand over the child!”._

_“No!!! I won’t! First Atalanta was taken from me thanks to that whore Aphrodite, rotting in a cave, and now you want to curse this child as well?! I will not allow that! He…He just lost everything…He lost his family, his friends, his home…and he died to cross the sea and try to live…Just leave him be…!”._

_“I warn you a last time, Artemis! Hand over the child!”._

_“I will not let you have him! Atalanta! Penthesilea! All of them have been turned into Servants! My children…my little girls…I will not let you have this child. Not on my life!”._

_“Listen, Artemis. I understand. I really do. It is unfortunate what happened to Atalanta, that she…”._

I can never remember that part. What was told to the goddess about what happened to the huntress?

Was she really forced to marry Hippomenes?

Was she really ashamed of her child and abandoned it in the woods like she herself was?

I cannot make it out.

_“No matter what you say, it will not change my mind! I will protect that boy! His home has been destroyed and the last peace he had was a book speaking about my girl! He doesn’t even have that anymore. I will not allow it! I will raise him myself this time. I will take him with me and care of him like a mother...”._

_“Artemis, that is not your child. Stop behaving as if he came from you.”._

_“He doesn’t need to have my blood! I won’t allow you to turn him into a weapon! I-“._

_“Enough!”._

I could barely hear the slap she received. My arm is being pulled up, dragged along with whoever had a hold of me.

My skin is scraping against the sand.

My consciousness is fading…

_“No! Crio! Let him go! Let that child go!”._

_“Be quiet, Artemis! This is for the greater good. The gods need their blade. If we are not allowed to dispose of another or intervene in human affairs anymore, then we need someone to cast our judgement.”._

_“No! Not my child! Don’t turn him into a weapon, I beg of you! He is just a boy! PLEASE!!!”._

Why did that woman scream for me? I was just an orphan…

I could never understand.

Millenia passed away.

My body grew. My heart was steel.

The first murder I committed to the pirmordial gods brought me to the verge of vomiting as the memories of my broken home returned.

But not a day later, I had to kill again.

I had no arms that held me when I cried and asked why I had to do this. There was no one to comfort me.

I killed…

And killed…

Countless bodies already by the age of 18.

The countereffect of the dead god’s blessing of life stopped my growth when I reached my thirtieth birthday.

My snow-white hair grew longer to the length of my shoulder, swept back, yet wild. Some had begun to call me the white maned lion.

Large shoulders on a strong body forged from countless battles, scarred beyond recognition, but covered by their ‘divine gifts’, so I could commit to my mission without minding my appearance.

Inside the halls I would brush by many gods of all lands and worlds.

_“The abomination has returned…”._

_“Hmpf. Looks like he was sent to kill another. We had many gods of chaos, but this one is by far the most dangerous we ever had.”._

_“Yes. His predecessor was too soft. That we said often. That is how he got himself killed as well. Still, when they brought that child in, I never expected him to become a machine.”._

God of Chaos.

Nothing more than a title to the assassin the gods choose to do their dirty work for. While our bodies far stronger than a mortal’s, are just as susceptible to death as before.

A knife to my heart.

A bullet to my head.

I would be dead in an instant.

We get taught what the heart of the world truly is and how easily darkness gives birth to monsters.

That is what I heard every day for as long as my cursed life went on. Gods of different lands giving me looks of pure hatred.

Anubis.

Hades.

Izanagi.

Many names. Many lands. Yet the same look, no matter if it was a god of death, or one of life. All would gaze at me if I was the devil’s spawn.

Aside from a single one…one I never spoke to.

Every time I walked by, she lifted her hand to me, but never spoke a word.

The grown body of a woman, a beautiful hour glass form clad in a white dress. The edges were in the color of brilliant red flames. Sometimes she was accompanied by what resembled a small bear on her shoulder. At other times, there was a mountain of a man, a giant, at her side. From the first look, he seemed like a natural playboy, but he always gazed down at the woman with a face of guilt, as if he was unable to do something for her.

And every time I looked into the woman’s sky-blue eyes a mortal would lose itself in instantly, she turned her eyes away, a shadow from her beautiful silver strands covering the sadness I was never able to grasp.

Softly, barely audible to untrained ears, she seemed to whimper.

But I never once asked her name. I was sent from mission to mission.

I was nothing more than that…

I was their abomination they created…

That they beat into my head at any given moment.

What once was my home, I remembered no more.

I forgot I was greek, born around the time of the war between Athens and Sparta. I cut my native tongue from my mouth, vowing to never speak a word of that language again.

And I forgot even ‘her’ name.

Having had enough of the loyal servitude to the gods, I once roamed through my belongings.

Held in my hand, a knife bestowed to me upon reaching adulthood, beautifully crafted. The steel was the purest white one can imagine, decorated with a sapphire in the middle that signified my allegiance to what people at times called the land of the gods.

And I rammed that sword into my throat.

I felt pain, blood seeping from my mouth as my view faded…

…and was cursed when I awoke with not even a scar left, healed once again.

I was unable to die.

I heard about a different universe were a half god went on a rampage from the grief of having killed his family at the hands of the god of war, Ares. In the end, after having destroyed Zeus, who was known in my land as the king of the gods and even his father, now nothing more than a pawn by something higher, he was able to kill himself and meet his family.

I served faithfully for millennia.

Why was I not allowed that?!

I just wanted to be with my parents again!!

With my people!!

But I was damned to walk into worlds over and over to kill for them as their assassin.

That was all I would ever be.

Their sword of ‘justice’.

Their abomination…

Ah…

It is getting dark…

I can see her again.

That woman in white.

But she is holding someone’s hand this time.

It is not that man, but someone different.

A woman clad in a dress of the freshest green, beautiful beyond compare.

Her hair was long, resembling the mane of a lion, a pale gold, yet with emerald on her bangs casting a shadow over her eyes.

The woman in white is smiling at me while the other stood silent.

Who…are they?

Why am I remembering them right now?

She is reaching her hand out to me, gesturing to the unknown woman at her side, smiling at me.

I take a step forth to meet them. I want to finally ask who that white-haired woman is, kicking something by mistake. I turn my gaze down at the sound of a metal rolling.

A golden cup is right in front of my feet, filled with what looked like blood, spilled on the ground.

And when I look forward again…

…they are gone, living me alone in the dark.

Picking up the cup, I sigh in my loneliness. To this day I never found out who she was…

…or who that over woman was.

Inside that darkness, I sense my surroundings grow warmer.

A gentle light is growing brighter and brighter behind me.

“EXCALIBUR!”.

I would recognize that shout no matter where. The shout of a proud king, whose blue dress waved in the wind as she unleashed all her might.

A blade of light cuts through the darkness, smiting with the force of the heavens themselves, and I see myself standing on a flat rooftop of a skyscraper once more.

There she is, fighting with all her strength against the Pegasus cutting through the sky, carrying the gorgeous gorgon on her back, with the spite of a falling star in the purest white to strike the king down.

The two Servants I gazed upon the very first day I had been sent to Fuyuki.

The king of Camelot, Artoria Pendragon, wielding the sword of victory…

…clashing with the feared beast of my home, the gorgon Medusa in the form of a beautiful woman, riding on the Pegasus.

With a smile, my eyelids grow heavy…

…

“Are you awake, ypnaras (sleepyhead)?”.

Ugh…I shouldn’t have stood up for so long…

Cracking my eyes open takes more effort than I would want it to.

“Come on, open your eyes. Or do I need to kiss you like in that story of that princess?”.

“Please don’t make such jokes, Medusa. People will think the wrong thing.”, I mutter annoyed to the sound of the giggling at my side. She always enjoys teasing me for whatever reason.

“Would it be that bad? You said I was a beautiful woman when we first met, right?”.

“I was not hitting on you, but just saying what my mind thought. Can you at least let me wake up peace?”, I beg the Rider as I rub my eyes.

The sunrays burn in my blue eyes as I am gazing at the thighs of the woman with the long pink hair.

Behind round glasses, long eyelashes fluttered with a small blink down to me and a smug expression I only see on Archer at times.

“The only one who would make such a joke would be Archer.”.

“Don’t mention him when I am barely awake.”.

Sitting straight up, a row of unhealthy cracks echo between me and Medusa. The sharp look she gives me stings on my skin.

“Alright, I am calling Medea.”.

“Medusa, I am-“.

“Malakias! (Foolishness!) Getting a hit from Berserker’s blade on your back is nothing to scoff at. I’ll call her and she’ll take a look at that scar of yours.”.

“You can say that to Shirou. I am not made of gla-“.

Already at the door she removed her glasses for a second, glaring at me with a mysterious glow that made her eyes look like gems. Every hair on my neck is standing up. “You will get yourself a checkup. I am not only doing that for you, chaso (idiot), but if Medea finds out you are not taking care of yourself, she will be the one chewing you out.”. “Medusa, kitaxe (Look). It is nice that you two look after me, but-“.

“Fine. Ignore my warnings. But if Medea constantly bothers you with that promise again, that is your own fault.”.

…

Riiiiight…

The promise I gave Medea…

If I ignore her warning now, Medea is going to remind me about the promise I made to her nearly a month ago for the rest of the week. I never knew that the Caster had such a strong bond with the huntress of Arcadia and Heracles.

I lower my head in defeat, glancing barely at her smile. “Good. Get yourself fixed. Shirou is making food and Artoria is waiting for your sparring with her.”. “Sure…I’ll be there in a second…”, I respond, watching as she goes away.

Ugh…

Malaka…

I was sent here by the gods to find something, get dragged into what is dubbed the fifth holy grail war and meet King Arthur, who is a girl, Medusa, who is not a snake monster, Heracles, who you cannot talk with, Medea, Cu Culainn, Sasaki Kojiro and the old king of Babylon, Gilgamesh, who is the biggest prick I had yet to meet.

Out of all the things I expected in my much, much too long life, I never expected to meet them.

My hand covering my eyes, I grumble annoyed at the hand fate dealt me.

But I have to admit…

…the life I lead right now is the most enjoyable I ever had…

I have not been contacted by gods for a long time, having been able to settle down here in Japan after the land had recovered from world war II. I lived quietly by myself before meeting all of them.

That light Artoria casted that night,…

…really is brightening my life that I thought would stay night forever…

Still…

…what was I dreaming about again? I have the feeling it was something familiar, but I cannot remember…

…

I think I need a coffee…

**Author's Note:**

> This right here is the Backstory of my own character.
> 
> There have been many things I considered for him.
> 
> One being how it feels to be a slave to a god, being constantly reminded that you are their monster and what happens to such a person when they are forced to live like that for so long.
> 
> Artemis...really needed an improvement in her personality. She is often used as a joke character and I wanted to give her more personality. She has ties to Crio that he cannot explain as of this moment, yet she is like an eagle from afar, always watching over him, yet unable to reach him because of the primordial gods that hindered her. I don't mind her being more lose on romance, but I think it was a bit...much...
> 
> That Atalanta paled at the meeting in the Okeanos singularity is no wonder.
> 
> And about Medusa, she and another greek Servant have an important role in how he changed to what he is now. That and she is my favorite Rider :3


End file.
